Our Requiem
by krystal-shi
Summary: The ending of Bleach 342, in Rukia's POV. Prologue to Always Be With me In Mind (so it's a one-shot); slight IchiRuki, lots of angst.


**Our Requiem**

**Summary: **The ending of Bleach 342, in Rukia's POV. Prologue to Always Be With me In Mind (so it's a one-shot); slight IchiRuki, lots of angst.

**A/N:** So I am experiencing what it feels like to watch Bleach 342 more than ten times in one week. I have also downloaded the song 'Always Be With Me In Mind' (the instrumental version; listen to it while reading, I recommend it), which they used in the final scene of that episode. So, despite this being overdone, I feel like I have to write this. And yeah, I am literally writing it at 2 AM because I cannot sleep since this fic has been coming at me like the Black Plague, so you have my apologies if some of it doesn't make sense. Since I don't like writing without a purpose (yes! I actually write things for a reason!), I'm making this the prologue to my Bleach multi-chap fic that bears the same title as the song I am listening to (you'll know what it is, check it out on my profile). Hopefully, y'all will get the title I came up with. xD I will try to stick to canon as hard as I can!

**Disclaimer:** If I *really* owned Bleach, episode 342 WOULD NOT have gone that way. Since it did, and I am still moved to tears by it, it's safe to say that I do not – and will not ever – own Bleach.

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I know from his eyes, from that look on his face, that I am starting to disappear from his sight. I know he will not cry, not in front of his _nakama_…and certainly not in front of me, because that's just how it is. He will try to hide this from me, even though he knows that I already know anyway. I am not innocent to doing the same thing, and it almost infuriates me that we are so alike and similar and familiar to each other that he probably knows that I'm doing the same thing he's doing. I'm keeping my head down, eyes closed shut, forcing the stinging tears back down. It is easy to hide this pathetic expression from him, because he is tall and I am short, and he will not even think about telling me to look at him because he's an idiot, and because we're Ichigo-and-Rukia – two separate people that are inseparable because we have this annoying bond that never fails to perplex me and fascinate me at the same time.

He said that we will never change and I agreed, but I know this is a lie, because he's going to keep living and I'm going to grieve and he won't even miss me, the frustrating midget free-loader who changed his world and thrust him into life-threatening fights. And I know that he'll tell me that he doesn't regret it, because he had gained the strength to protect, but I know he's wrong, because if I hadn't given him that power, then he wouldn't have the chance to miss it.

"Give everyone my regards," he says, and I want to slap him.

I just say that I will, because I don't trust myself to say anything else. He doesn't say anything to me, not now, and for a moment, I am selfish. I want him to say something to make me understand why suddenly, everything seems so unfair, even though we expected this to happen. I want him to say something to make me feel better, to make me tell him that I will miss him so that he will hear it, to make me tell him that I will visit him no matter how painful it will be for the both of us, because he'll know that I'm there and he'll be sad that he can't see me, and I'll be beating myself up even more for causing him such sadness.

Everything has become so predictable, but by the time it happens, none of us are ever really prepared for it. I was never prepared to change his world, and I wasn't prepared when he changed mine. I wasn't prepared to launch myself into Hueco Mundo to save Inoue-san. I wasn't prepared to see Ichigo so weak and sad and pathetic, so unlike the man that he is in my heart. I wasn't prepared for anything, not even this, and it is a terrible feeling. He is a _boy_, I tell myself, and he will die.

But the thought of his very human death clenches my soul in a vice-like grip, and I know as well as he does that he does not want to 'go out' that way. He has seen too much and experienced even more, and his lack of strength is eating at him from the inside. I do not know how I know this, but I know that I know _him_, and I don't know if it's a mere friendship or something more. I don't know what to think or do if it is 'something more', because I'm too afraid.

_Coward!_

I feel his reiatsu flicker in and out, and I cross my arms over my chest more forcefully, knowing that I only have seconds left and I don't want to think like this. My thoughts zoom by, and the words I want to say clench my throat so tightly that I feel the tears I have so valiantly fought back come at me again with a vengeance. I want to keep believing that this is not the end, that we've endured far too much and fought for far too long to let our easy companionship and comforting friendship – amidst all the yelling and name-calling and fighting – end like this. I don't want it to, but I feel like I have to, because I have no choice…

I gain the courage to look up at him, just this once – this one last time – and I am weighed down by the reality of it all. I don't want to believe it, but I can see that he's trying he's hardest to keep looking at me. The insult dies at my throat, and I try calling his name one last time –

"Bye, Rukia."

And it hits me like I had just taken a blow from Aizen himself. It hits me like that time when the Noveno Espada that dared wear Kaien-dono's face skewered me with Kaien-dono's zanpakutou. It hits me like I would imagine the Sokyouku would have had Ichigo not been there to stop it.

The pain comes crashing all at once, there and not there, and I stumble half a step back in a vain attempt to get away from it, like if I got away from my previous position in front of him where that pain hit me, it would leave me, too. I had been close, so close to him that I could feel his comforting warmth and radiance envelop me like a blanket, but I was too much of a coward…I was far too weak to even look him in the eye for more than one second and have the last mention of his name that he will ever hear from me die on my parted lips.

There's this clenching in my chest and a burning in my eyes, and I find myself unable to breathe. This weakness – this pathetic, inexcusable weakness – is so blatantly laid out for our friends to see, but I find myself unable to even register their presence.

Ichigo looks up and I want to hit him for doing that, like he expected me to be up there, like I'm some sort of guardian angel or whatever humans call it. But I find that I cannot gather enough irritation, because his eyes are as soft as melted chocolate, and I want him to look at me so I can drown in them.

"Thank you…" he says, trailing off, not saying my name although I want to hear it. Nevertheless, I _do_ hear it, unspoken, just as the words I want to tell him die with a bitter taste in my mouth does my name die in his.

I reach out to touch his cheek – to memorise it, or to slap him, or to make him face me like the strong man that I expect him to be – but my hand passes through him.

And it hurts again, and one solitary tear manages to escape.

Our friends don't say anything. They know, as well as I do, that Ichigo doesn't need to know that I'm lingering around for longer than usual. They won't ask, and they won't know, that I'm doing this because I don't plan on coming back. I don't plan on coming back even if it kills me. I don't, because I know that it'll hurt too much to see him so _alive_ and _there_, and being something that I'm not, and knowing that he doesn't want to be like that even though I tell him that that's what he's supposed to be.

I walk to the street lamp – the very same one that I leant on that one fateful night – and touch it as Ichigo tells them goodbye and proceeds to go inside his house. I don't see him, but I hear the resignation and sorrow and that feeling of regret because we did not do or say things that we could have, and it is in his voice, probably reflecting the look in my eyes. I commit everything to memory, and I touch the pole in slight reverence. How much had changed…?

No matter how much we change, we'll still remain the same, won't we?

A hand places itself on my shoulder, and I turn and see Inoue there. The boys have gone home, and I am glad that I don't have to keep up appearances so much. Yet, I can never truly be comfortable with anyone but that foolish orange-haired boy…

No, not a boy; he's a man. He will always be a foolish Strawberry….

"Rukia-san…" she says, looking at me with those innocent grey eyes. She looks like she pities my predicament, and I am tempted to shout, yell, and do something so un-Rukia-like in front of her…but I remember that she will not understand, and will be offended. She will not understand that this has been the way that Ichigo and I have been for so long that it feels like forever, and that releasing our emotions in such a forceful, rough manner is the only way that we know how to cope, because weaknesses – while they are not shunned or looked down upon – are simply unacceptable when you're protecting those precious to you. They are something you cannot afford.

So I gently take her hand off my shoulder, and the contact makes me think of how no one will ever interact with me the way Ichigo does, and that the contact I make with everyone else will be a reminder of how I will never have any with him again.

"I'm fine," I tell her, in that cultured, calm Kuchiki tone that I have learnt so well in the past…the façade that Ichigo brought down…

I pull my katana out of its sheath and stab open air. I turn it sideways, and say "open"; the senkaimon appears before us, and a hell butterfly comes fluttering out, ready to lead me along.

"Will you visit, Rukia-san?"

She knows my answer, yet she still asks. Maybe…this is the innocence and purity that that Strawberry idiot needs to wash out all the sin that I have allowed him to commit, due to that mistake – that sudden twist in our stories – that happened that one night, that gave him power to protect and the curse to bear such responsibility to do things like kill people (no matter how despicable), at his age. Yet the thought of him being with her twists my gut around, and my mind screams _wrong, wrong, wrong_!

But she's my friend, isn't she? And he's my…friend, too. They…deserve some semblance to normality, and if Ichigo doesn't want it…he'll just have to take it. It's what's _right_.

For everyone.

"You can visit me if you want to see me…Inoue-san," I answer, not trusting the stability in my voice. I do not even want to look her in the eye. I do not want to hear what she's going to say: that I'm selfish, that I shouldn't let 'Kurosaki-kun' feel alone. I'm going to lose my fragile temper, what's left of my rationality.

Because she doesn't know. She tries and tries, but she doesn't, because she cannot even call Ichigo by his first name, and still thinks that they are very close. Battle may have brought them together, but…she will never know him, not as well as I do.

And I step through the light, knowing that there is nothing but a dark, lonely future up ahead.

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**A/N:**

See? Sticking as close to what happened as I possibly can. I don't know what happens after Ichigo says 'thank you', so I just tried to make it as believable as possible(?). See, I even took note that Rukia was standing very, very close to Ichigo (she does), and that she has her arms crossed over her chest (although I'm not sure about this one, this might be her hugging herself?). And she looks up, and looks like she's going to say something (is that just my imagination though?!), but then she disappears. Good job, Tite Kubo, for breaking my heart in two, EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I also added in a little bit as to why IchiHime will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever – you get my point – ever work. While I do respect Orihime's character, she uses her powers very inefficiently at key events, I think. For example: when Ichigo has a HOLE IN HIS CHEST and is passed out, she screams out, "HELP ME!", because she is afraid and doesn't know what to do. While I understand how she can feel that way, I don't understand how she can just sit there and be in awe/fear of him when he turns Hollow (I mean, what? Really? Huh?) and just…be petrified. Meanwhile, Rukia knows that Ichigo is Ichigo, despite having a Hollow side, and she accepts that while also being wary of it for good reason!

*breathes* I will stop myself here, because I will probably rant on and on about that particular scene in the Hueco Mundo arc ("The Lust Arc" they call it, although I can never understand why…) and say: Thank you for reading this fanfiction. I hope that you enjoyed it. I would appreciate any reviews and such. Please read the multi-fic that accompanies this called "Always Be With Me In Mind". Thank you again!


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